


until you come back home

by awesomeaislin



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (with penelope's help), Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, but they get there, loosely based on i don't wanna live forever by ts, theyre both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomeaislin/pseuds/awesomeaislin
Summary: Simon and Baz haven't spoke in a week, and even though they can't remember why, and they want to see each other, they just can't bring themselves to be the first one to break.Until they do..."It was petty and stupid even then. But I’m petty and Simon’s stupid so that makes sense. We’d gotten into an argument. We’re always getting into arguments. But normally they end with one of us pushing the other over and kissing them senseless. Until we forget that we were ever even annoyed. "





	until you come back home

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while, but I'm back, and taylor swift is doing something on friday so you can rest assured knowing i will turn whatever happens into some kind of fic. I have actually been working on a longer thing for a while but I keep deleting it and starting over. Maybe one day I'll get it right

**BAZ**

It’s stupid.

I’m being stupid.

Maybe I’ve been spending so much time with Snow that his stupidity has finally rubbed off on me.

But, no, that can’t be right because I haven’t seen him in a week. I haven’t even spoken to him in a week. No texts, no calls, no Simon Snow at all.

I’m not really sure why. Well, I guess I started out being sure.

It was petty and stupid even then. But I’m petty and Simon’s stupid so that makes sense. We’d gotten into an argument. We’re always getting into arguments. But normally they end with one of us pushing the other over and kissing them senseless. Until we forget that we were ever even annoyed.

I don’t even remember what our squabbling was about. _He lost his phone and was late to dinner and I didn’t know if he was dead or not?_ No, that was a month ago. _I left 3 hard cover books in his bed and he flopped down on it and gave himself a bruise?_ No, that’s not right either. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what it was about. It almost never matters what it was about.

Now it doesn’t matter.

Now that I haven’t seen Simon in a week. Now that I don’t know what he’s doing. Now that we’ve lost out snapchat streak (which isn’t even a big deal, and I _don’t_ care about my snapchat streaks, but also...no... _shut up_ ).

I’m just staring at my phone waiting for him to text.

It’s pathetic.

**SIMON**

“Simon,” Penny calls from the kitchen. “When’s Baz coming? We normally eat our curry by now.”

_Shit._ Is it Friday already?

_Fuck. Shit._ Has it really been a week since I’ve seen Baz? He must be really annoyed at me to have stayed away so long. To have not even texted. To have not even called.

“Ummm,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. “I don’t know.”

“Where is he anyway?” She wonders aloud.

“I don’t know.”

“Simon,” She says and she gives me this look. She rolls her eyes and opens her phone. “Oh, he’s at his flat.”

I don’t comment on how creepy it is that she has his location. Because it’s not. After the disasters, we all have location sharing for each other turned on. Just in case.

“Where else would he be?” I ask, stupidly. He should be here.

She rolls her eyes again. She gives me one last look as though she’ll never even be close to figuring out what the hell is wrong with us. She heads into her room.

And I stare at my phone again.

Where is he?

**BAZ**

_PB: Where’s my curry?_

_BP: Fuck off, Bunce._

_PB: You’re an idiot._

It’s not like she’s wrong. I should be over there now. It’s silly not to be.

I look out the window, and for a second I think I see familiar bronze curls, but it’s not him, it’s just another empty face in the crowd.

It occurs to me that I’ve been moping around all week for nothing.

Well, not nothing. I assume I had a good reason. A good reason that I can’t even remember now.

Fiona stamps through the door, and I remember why I spend so much time with Simon. It’s miserable sharing a flat with her. It’s not that I don’t love her, but honestly she’s an awful roommate. She blasts her music too loud, and she leaves everything a wreck in her wake, and she’s constantly making fun of me. At least she’s abroad and out of the flat most of the time.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She demands, and promptly slams the door behind her and stands in front of it. I’ve known her my whole life, and I can see she’s hiding something.

“Who the fuck are you hiding behind that door?”

“You’re not meant to be here,” She hisses at me.

“Fiona,” I roll my eyes. “I live here.”

“But you spend fridays with the chosen one and his keeper.”

I suddenly take extreme interest in my nails. For the first time in my life, I’m looking at my cuticles and pretending that I’m completely fascinated by them.

“Basilton,” She grumbles. “Just go.”

“No.”

“It’s better for both of us, if you just go.”

“If I go,” I grumble, “I’m only going to see whatever disgrace you’ve got hidden behind that door.”

She rolls her eyes at me. I think sometimes she’s well and truly torn between wanting me to be happy and wanting to make Simon miserable. Sometimes she makes sure to run into Snow and I just so that she can both see me happy and make fun of Simon until he’s a growling moron.

I look out the window again. Just more empty, miserable faces.

“If you’re just going to sit around and look sad, could you at least go to the park or something?”

“Fiona,” I snarl.

“Basil,” She snarls right back.

I roll my eyes again. “If he’s still here when I get back, I’m going to burn this place to the ground,” I say as I grab my jacket.

Fiona’s ‘mystery’ man has clearly tried to hide himself behind the door. And I don’t turn around to look at him. I hardly need to. Fiona is a lot less subtle than she thinks she is.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Nicodemus.”

**SIMON**

I should really just text Baz.

I know I should, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to. What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? I mean I know he’d want to talk to me. I know. But what if he doesn’t?

**BAZ**

I decide to go get dinner. I mean just because I’m not spending my evening with Snow and Bunce doesn’t mean I don’t need to eat.

It won’t be as nice though. There won’t be any of the laughing or teasing or sitting on the sofa watching the bake off or falling asleep with Snow wrapped around me. There won’t be any arguing with Bunce or Snow grumbling after he’s inevitably eaten too much or getting to kiss that one mole on Simon’s neck.

I love that mole.

I’m so distracted that when I get to curry shop I accidentally order what I normally would for all of us. So now I’m just one person (kind of) with enough food for two normal people and one Simon Snow (I don’t know the exact conversion). It’s such a waste.

Maybe I should just give in and go see him. But wouldn’t he call if he wanted to see me. (or text or even send a carrier pigeon) Has he even noticed I’m gone? That would figure. What a moron.

No, I’ll just go back to my flat and annoy Fiona. That’ll get me out of this bad mood. But I don’t want to walk all the way back. The food will be cold if I take my time, and rushing would be against my cool and casual look. So I flag down a taxi.

“Where to?”

_Home_ , I think.

**SIMON**

My stomach grumbles as if to admonish me. It wishes Baz were here. _I_ wish Baz were here. And not just because of the curry. (Well, I mean it’s a motivator. (I’m not a liar.))

Maybe I could go get our curry, and I could go to his flat, and he would look at me like he always does when he’s thinking about how much he loves me. It’s like a mix between the look that means he thinks I’m a moron and the look that means he wants to take me to a courthouse and marry me on the spot.

I could do that. I should do that.

“Penny,” I call as I grab my jumper.

I’m throwing on a pair of trainers when she calls back. “What?”

“I’m going out.”

**BAZ**

When I go to bang on the door, my fist meets something unexpectedly soft and warm.

“Ow,” Snow howls dramatically, clutching his face. “What the fuck?”

I should say sorry. But then again,  Pitches don’t apologize. Maybe we should.

“Shit,” I say rather unhelpfully. “Are you okay?”

He looks up at me for the first time since I got here, and for a moment I think he’s angry at me. But then he looks at me and smiles so big it’s like looking at the sun. (It’s always like looking at the sun with him.)

He takes a step forward and pulls me into a hug. And, _wow,_ I’m not sure Simon has ever held me this hard. (Well he probably has, but it’s been a whole week, so cut me some slack.)

“Baz,” He says into my shoulder. When he steps back, he smiles again, “You brought curry.”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t starve, Snow.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls me into the kitchen as if I don’t know the way to his dinner table. As if I haven’t eaten almost every dinner here for the past 6 months. He’s my favorite imbecile on this entire planet.

“Bunce, come get your food,” I yell to her. “You’ve complained enough, you might as well eat.”

“I hardly complained at all,” She counters. “It was one text, and someone had to be the bigger person it’s hardly my fault that you two don’t have it in you.”

I don’t bring up that I didn’t even mean to get them food. That I hadn’t thought this through at all. That a part of me just needed to get here. That I needed to go home, and here I am.

“You’d starve on a friday without me,” I remind them.

“Of course, you’re our knight in shining armour. You’ve saved the day once again, our hero,” Penny says in what I can only assume is her Simon impression.

**SIMON**

Penny’s impression of me is pretty inaccurate, but I’m just so happy Baz is here that I don’t even mind that much. Well I do mind a little. It makes me sound like a right idiot. I’ll argue with her next time. There will definitely be a next time. Penny pulls this impression out at the drop of a hat.

_‘My Lovely Vampire Boyfriend, please distract me while I’m studying and bring me sour cherry scones with your unlimited funds.’_

_‘My darling, Basilton, please kiss me in all sorts of public spaces just to annoy my roommate.’_

_‘Hello, love of my life, please start all kinds of pointless arguments with me and make sure this flat is uninhabitable with the amount of screaming.’_

It’s a ridiculous impression. I don’t even sound like that.

I choose not to argue this today because really I just want to eat my curry and watch tv with Baz and fall asleep on the sofa and somehow wake up in my bed with a cold vampire in my arms.

“Baz,” I change the subject. “How was your week?”

“Uneventful,” He sighs. “Fiona’s in town.” He’s frowning.

Maybe he should just live here. He’s normally here enough. And I know he sleeps better when he’s here.

I can tell. And even if I couldn’t tell, I would know by today. There are bags under his eyes and he looks exhausted. I’m tired too.

I would ask him, but I’d have to ask Penny first. Surely she wouldn’t mind. I mean he cleans more than either of us. The only reason this place is even livable at all is because of him. And she likes to study with him.

“Is she really that miserable to live with?” Penelope asks.

“Not when she isn’t there,” He says. “Then she’s a great roommate.”

“Maybe you should just live here,” She says and I choke on my dinner. She pats me on the back. “Oh, come on, Simon, we both know you want him here.”

“Bunce,” Baz rolls this eyes.

We drop it for the rest of dinner, and we don’t bring it up while we’re sitting on the sofa, and I do fall asleep next to him, and he does carry me to my room even though I’m half awake when he does it.

**BAZ**

Bunce is ridiculous.

I’m not just going to move in. I mean I live with Fiona, and her flat is so much closer to uni, and honestly Snow and Bunce are slobs and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life picking up after the two of them. I’m a Pitch not a maid. And if I lived with Snow I’m not sure I’d ever complete an assignment again. He’d ruin my grades.  And, besides, Snow didn’t even ask me.

It’s pointless to think about it. Even if I do want it, Snow didn’t ask.

I don’t bring it up for the rest of the night even though it’s all I can think about. (I don’t know how Snow just doesn’t think at all. Sometimes I envy his ability to do that.) And we don’t talk about the fact I haven’t been around all week (I still haven’t figured out what we argued about (I’ve decided it hardly matters. _I’m here now_ )) even though Bunce keeps trying to steer the conversation towards it.

He falls asleep in the middle of bake off which _he_ insisted on watching. He claims it’s his favorite show, yet he falls asleep everytime without fail. He’ll never actually learn any new baking techniques this way. (Not that it matters- he prefers eating to baking.)

Honestly, he might as just agree to the documentaries and films Bunce and I keep pushing for, he’d probably be awake the exact same amount. I can’t really bring myself to care too much though because his head is in my lap and I get to run my fingers through his hair.

I can’t believe I almost didn’t come here tonight. I can’t believe I’d even think of missing this. I know we do this every week, but it’s still something special. It’s important.

Besides, it would be a true nightmare to be at Fiona’s flat right now.

Bunce rolls her eyes at him before pausing the tv, standing up, and going to her room. “If he’s not awake, he’s just going to make us watch it again tomorrow.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m staying.”

“That’s maybe the least bold thing I’ve ever said in my life,” and she shuts the door behind her. Bunce loves getting the last word in. She’s lucky I’m not more vindictive. I have half a mind to open her door and retort, but then Simon would wake up and that wouldn’t be fair to him. (I know he has nightmares. Especially when I’m gone. There are bags under his eyes.)

I lift him off the sofa as gently as I can, and he stirs a little, but I’m sure he will fall asleep the minute his head hits the pillow. He always does.

I don’t need him to ask me to move in.

Frankly, this is more than I ever imagined having with him. I thought Simon Snow would bring the end. I thought I’d kiss him once and die. And, now, I have petty squabbling, and sitting next to him on the sofa, and buying him food, and tucking him in, and holding him after his nightmares. I didn’t think I’d ever get a stunningly normal domestic life with Simon Snow.

It’s amazing.

I think he’d probably be harder to carry if I weren’t a vampire. He’s not big by any means, but he does insist on eating he weight in scones almost every night. I really don’t know how he isn’t fat. Maybe he’s just making up for a miserable childhood of not enough.

I’d buy him every scone in the world if it would make him happy. I don’t tell him this. I have a reputation to uphold, but I have to assume he knows.

How could he not know?

I place him in his bed. I don’t need to put in any effort to get him into pajamas. Most of his clothes double as pajamas anyway. His trackies and jumpers and much too big sweatshirts. He’s a fashion disaster. He’s a travesty. He’s my travesty.

I actually have to change if I want to stay here, but I didn’t bring any clothes with me tonight (because I didn’t plan this). But I know Snow doesn’t mind me borrowing so I take my favorite jumper of his and the warmest pair of trackies I can find, and I crawl in beside him.

He’s more awake than I thought because he turns and wraps his arms around me. (There’s nothing wrong with being the little spoon. Especially when your boyfriend’s wings make it physically impossible not to be.)

He presses a kiss into my neck and mumbles something unintelligible.

“Hm?”

“You should do it.”

“I should do what?” I ask.

“You should move in.”

“You don’t have to say that just because Bunce wants me here,” I chuckle. He really doesn’t. I’m happy. I’m so unbelievably happy. Happier than I thought possible.

“I’m not just saying it.” Simon mumbles. “Everything's better when you’re here. You bring food. And you let me watch my shows. And if you live here you won’t go off for a week and not see me. Move in with me.”

“Okay,” I say.

And I agree. Just like that. No fight at all. Because Simon’s right here, and he’s warm, and I’ve been away from him all week, and he smells like sugar, and he wants me here. And even though I don’t live here, I feel like I’ve come home after a long time. I feel warm and fuzzy and like I never want to leave. (I’m so glad noone can hear my thoughts. My reputation would never recover.)

“I’m making a chore chart for you and Bunce. I am not going to be your live in maid.”

“But you’d look so good in a maid’s uniform.”

“I’m moving out.”


End file.
